My brother and second-in-command, Cesare, leans toward me. “This is a good turnout,” he murmurs, counting the number of men milling around the large space. They are all merrily tucking into their drinks and hors d'oeuvres, networking and laughing, discussing business and pleasure. I’ll let them have a few minutes, then we’ll get down to business.
Cesare goes stiff beside me, a hand to his ear. He grabs my arm, pulling me through the double doors, down the hallway, and out through the back door.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“The mole you placed has just been in touch. A group is on their way to assassinate everyone here. We have to go.”
I shake my hand free from his tight grasp and storm back inside to get everyone out. I’ve spent years amassing the group of specially-trained men inside—they are loyal to me and keep the trafficking running smoothly. If they all die here today, it will take more time than I’m willing to consider to get it all up and running again.
Cesare grabs me, dragging me behind a dumpster. Rounding on him, I push him off me, but he claps a hand over my mouth. “Shh!” he whispers. “Look.” Peering out the side of the dumpster, I watch as several vans pull up, people dressed in hazmat suits and masks jumping out. Fuck, it’s too late. Three people rush into the abandoned building across the street, the others stopping for a moment to check that their suits are on correctly.
We stay quiet, hiding like fucking rats while these people run into the warehouse, the soft pops of silenced guns going off. Then watch in confusion as they make their way to the roof.
“What the fuck are they doing?” I ask incredulously, and Cesare grimaces.
“The mole didn’t say, he was in a rush and only had a second to phone it in without getting caught. But I would guess by the protective gear that they are gassing the room. Fuckers are going to watch through the skylight on the roof.”
Anger rushes through me, making my stomach knot. These bastards thought they could kill me? Take down my organization? “When this is over, we will hunt down every one of them,” I promise, watching as they make their way down the fire escape before going back inside.
Cesare grins beside me, always happy to get his hands bloody. “I can’t wait,” he purrs as the group comes back outside. They take their masks off, my eyes locked on the woman with long dark hair. My muscles twitch and grow taut as betrayal flashes through me. Cesare covers his mouth to prevent a gasp escaping.
“What the fuck?” he growls out, his hands forming fists. He starts to stand, but I pull him down, shushing him.
White-hot anger burns through me as I stare at my traitor of a daughter assembling her little army.
She actually believes she can take me down. Me, the king of New York City.
It’s time to come home, Princess. I’ve got a cage with your name on it, and when I’m done punishing you, you’ll join your mother in hell.A savage smile breaks across my face.
No one betrays me and lives to tell the tale.
Not even my flesh and blood.
Chapter 3
Cruz
Six Months Ago
Flickingthroughthechannels,a beer in hand, I come to a stop on a news channel. I’ve been watching with interest the past few weeks about the Retribution Killer and House of Horrors shit show going down in Arizona. I take a long pull of beer, letting it slide down my throat as I turn the volume up. Leaning back into the cushions of the sofa, I watch with interest what new developments are unfolding.
“Detective! Detective Latham!”the reporter calls out. The dark-haired detective turns toward the cameras, two other women by her side. The three are all obviously law enforcement, even if one is covered in tattoos and looks like she would be more at home in a biker bar than a precinct.
“Is it true you’re working with the FBI?”the reporter asks.The tattooed woman rolls her eyes and nudges the woman at her side.
“Yes, because of the magnitude of this case, we have decided it would be best to work alongside the Bureau. These are Agents Buchanan and Gerhardt; they will be running point on the investigation.”
Fuck me. Agent Buchanan. It’s been a while since I’ve laid eyes on her. A lump forms in my throat as I trace over her arched eyebrows, the curve of her lips. Farther down to the swell of her breast.
The reporter smiles for the camera, her overly large microphone practically concealing her face.“And can you tell us what you have found today?”
Agent Buchanan steps forward.“We have no further comments at this time. We’ll be happy to share information as needed, but please respect that this is an active crime scene.”
My cock twitches for the first time in months as I watch the woman I’ve never been able to forget dominate the screen before me.
My mission has taken longer than anticipated to complete, but it’s nearly finished. And once it is, I’m going back for her. Daniella Isabella Sophia Gianelli is mine.
And I always claim what’s mine.
